


Blue

by KiddUnknown



Category: RWBY
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5900797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiddUnknown/pseuds/KiddUnknown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alright. I'm working on chapter 3. It'll be up soon. Until then, I won't update anymore. Thanks for the support! (Sarcastic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a retelling of the regular story of RWBY, with my OC. I'm gonna try my best to keep the characters as natural as they are. With that, let's get to reading.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or any of the characters.

_ Chapter One: Forgotten memories _

  
  


_ Chunk. _

 

_ Chunk. _

 

_ Chunk. _

 

_ The snow fell heavily in the green forest, effectively turning into a white snow-land. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of crunching snow under a heavy boot. The crouching figure was draped in a full-body cowl, revealing nothing about his appearance as he slowly advanced into the deep forest.  _

 

_ Steam rose from his mouth as he released his breath, sucking in chilling air from in front of him. He advanced forward with no weapon, his hands and feet hidden under the cowl at all time. After another few hundred feet of walking in the cold wasteland of snow was nothing new to him. _

 

_ In the distance, his target was finally spotted. A large, black beowulf with white symbols covering it's fur, and black symbols covering it's exterior bone plates: the pack leader.  _

 

_ In the Grimm world, pack leaders are chosen through infighting. Even then, beowulf pack leaders are rarely chosen, since they infight regularly. But this beowulf was different. Larger, bigger, with more bone plates than usual. He was a terrifying presence to students of the four kingdoms, especially when they didn't know they existed in the first place.  _

 

_ The large beowulf walked through the treeline, stalking something the cloaked figure couldn't see. As the creature of Grimm was distracted, this seemed like the perfect time to strike.  _

 

_ As the Grimm stepped forward, so did the figure. He took longer strides than usual, standing taller than a crouch at this point. He slowly advanced on the Grimm, taking advantage of the creatures need to slowly walk forward when hunting. As he neared the large beast, he slid his sword out from under his cowl and held it behind him, backwards in his hand, the tip reaching out from his shoulder, standing near the height of his head.  _

 

_ Out of nowhere, the Grimm leapt at what seemed like nothing, growling as it did. It made contact with a large white figure, sinking it's claws into a soft bodied creature, causing it to stir and scream in pain. The two creatures rolled in the snow, throwing it everywhere, as the beowulf was clearly in control of the fight.  _

 

_ As the beowulf bit into the white creature, it retaliated by kicking the beowulf off its body, showing the fresh red wound of claws and teeth, blood rolling down its white fur. As it stood up, it was shown to be a tall, white beowulf, belonging to a pack of scouts. It took off running, anywhere to get away from its experienced attacker.  _

 

_ No reason for stealth at this point, the cloaked figure dashed forward, throwing up snow in all directions. He quickly slid his blade in between the bone plates of the stunned beowulves soft body, just before it realized what had happened. He ripped his now-red blade from the body of the howling beowulf. A large hand swept him to the side, smashing him through a tree and causing him to roll through the snow, tossing it everywhere as he dug into the snow.  _

 

_ He layer there in the snow for what seemed like hours before his eyes closed and he finally blacked out. _

 

_ When he opened his eyes, he was standing in the snow again. But when he looked around, there were no trees. Only buildings in the distance, over a cliff. As he approached the edge of the cliff, a small tombstone slowly came into view. He knelt at the small rock and put a hand on the cold, flat surface. He slid his hand down the face of the stone, and words slowly formed: _

  
_ Summer Rose _


	2. It's been a long day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More mystery gathering up by the second.

As time went by, the snow outside melted away to the crisp air of Spring, shedding the old brown grass to reveal bright green blades, tall yellow flowers, and strong, sturdy trees. The wind blew crisply through the meadow near a large, white building. The roof was littered with bullheads, all specially designed to carry injured individuals. On the front of the building, in big, red, bold letters read:  **Atlas Terminal for the Ill.**

The inside was trashed. Desks, papers, computers, anything you could think of, was thrown around everywhere. Claw marks were etched on the walls and floors, giant black feathers were impaled through the floors and roof, and remains of grimm were littered all over the building. At first glance, it would seem abandoned.

A single person was still in the destroyed building, lying on a hospital bed. The room was trashed as well, but the door was barricaded with shelves and metal stands. Clear fluids were leaking from iv bags. The heart rate monitor that was hooked up to him was on the floor, the clear glass from the screen blown throughout the room with the glass from the window. The loud beeping noise was replaced by a low, distorted bleep, bleeping every now and then. 

The wind blew through the broken window and swept through the room, stirring papers and glass pieces.  

As the wind blew through the room, the body on the table slowly started to move, groaning softly in pain. 

“Everything hurts…” He muttered as he sat up. 

He ran a pale hand through his long, unkempt, blue hair. As he opened his red eyes, he was taken aback by the damage in front of his eyes. Momentarily forgetting the pain, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and slid off the bed onto his feet. 

He didn't know how long he had been out, but it must have been a long time, as he dropped to one knee. His vision became cloudy as he tried to focus on something, anything, to keep his eyes open and his mind clear. 

He took deep breaths to steady himself as he stood up again. He reached out and put his hand on an upright metal cart to steady himself. The only object on the cart was a clipboard with a piece of paper attached to it still. Looking down at the paper, he realized it was his hospital papers. He picked up the clipboard and looked over it. 

“Unknown name.. Unknown person.. No contacts.. No address..”

Under the notes section, a poorly cursive attempt to write ‘Nobody knows who he is’ stood out in blue ink. At the top of the paper, the date of patient check-in was typed next to the empty address box. It had been two months since he was  checked into the hospital.

“So they didn't know me.. and I've been here two months?!” He tossed the clipboard aside and strode to the open window, peering outside, stepping on and over papers and glass, kicking aside any large chunks. Green grass and crisp winds weren't what he remembered.

“Wasn't it winter when I got hurt..? How long have I been out.. and what happened?” He asked himself softly.

Lucky for him, his room was on ground floor, so he slid over the edge of the window and landed on the grass, stumbling as his leg was still waking up. He slowly stood up and trudged through the grass, heading in any direction that wasn't the hospital.

Glancing up at the blue and white sky, he noticed the sun was still high up, so he had, what he thought was, about 6 hours before it got dark. Groaning to himself, he worked his way to the treeline of the small forest, using the trunks as support, as he walked through the largely separated trees. Taking a final glance back at his shelter, he noticed the feathers and claw marks. Grimm. He wasn't alone in the forest, and he wasn't in the best condition to fight. 

“Maybe I won't encounter anything.. hopefully..” 

He kept this thought in the front of his mind as he trudged forward through the small forest.

* * *

 

 

Given all his time to think throughout his long walk, he decided to nickname himself Unknown. It sounded cool, and dangerous. Aside from nicknames, his leg was finally fine, so he didn't have to worry about it anymore. With a sigh, Unknown finally broke through the other end of the treeline, coming across a smaller town, a hill being the only thing keeping him away. He took a peek over the hill, only seeing grass and a nice slope. Quickly, he made his way down the slope and past the few trees at the bottom.

At first, Unknown didn't see anybody, so he took a few glances left and right, but still, nobody. Running his hand through his hair again, he strode into the small town, looking for anyone. Despite there being nobody, the buildings were all nice looking, nothing seemed destroyed, and businesses looked closed, not out of business. 

“So.. where are they..?” 

After a few more minutes of looking around through the buildings, a small paper was hung up on a tree, with a message written on it. 

‘Went to Vytal festival. Be back in a week.’

With a heavy sigh, the blue haired vagabond continued his walk through the town. Upon reaching the other end, he saw no forest, but this time, just an open field with a single road on it. Drooping his head, with another heavy sigh, he took off walking down the road, hating his luck today.

* * *

 

 

After a few hours of walking, his legs began to ache and his brain was sore from all the thoughts. Today just wasn't his day.

With a heavy heart, and equally heavy eyelids, he came across a house near the road. It was a small thing, made for what seemed like one person. Having no other options, Unknown headed over to the front door, noticing how old the place was. Knocking gently, he took a step back and waited a moment.

A lock was undone and the round handle turned slowly. The door opened into a small slit, and an old, frail voice spoke out from the slit. 

“Why are you here, wanderer?”

Thinking before he uttered a single word, he finally thought up what he wanted to say. “I came from the hospital, a few hours back that way-” he motioned with a thumb “-and I've been walking along this road ever since the town back that way. I'm very tired and I need a place to rest. May I please take shelter in your home for tonight?” 

The light outside was slowly fading away to the black of the night sky, showing dozens of early stars in the dark blue sky.

Moments passed before either moved or spoke. Finally, breaking the silence, the old man undid a second lock and opened the door wide, stepping aside for the tired Unknown. With a thanks, he stepped into the small home and looked around. One table, two chairs, a large scroll on the wall, a well sized kitchen and one door. 

The door closed and the old man hobbled to the softer chair, slowly settling himself into it. 

“I would offer food, but I'm too old to move around a lot in one day.” The hermit said as he brought his attention to the scroll. Currently, he was watching a four vs four match in the Vytal tournament.

“I just need rest.” Unknown sighed as he slid into the other chair. His red eyes closed instantly as the softness of the chair enveloped his sore body. 

“You sound pretty sore, wanderer.” 

**“It's been a long day.” And with that, Unknown fell into the void of sleep. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys enjoyed, please leave a comment and a kudos. I'm not sure about continuing the fanfiction, so if you like it, please let me know.


	3. Hiatus

Until further notice, I am on Hiatus. Epsode 12 fucked me up.

**Author's Note:**

> Will be updated frequently (and aggressively!). If you enjoyed, make sure to follow and leave a kudos or a comment (both accepted too!). Planning on making different fanfictions too. Already have ideas, but I'm going to continue and end this one first.


End file.
